


After the Act

by Wagontrain



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wagontrain/pseuds/Wagontrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ritual was not Alistair's idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Act

Alistair lay back, arms stiffly at his sides. Morrigan rose from the bed and paced over to the fireplace, allowing the warm light to play across her naked form.

_Did that just happen?_ He thought. Slowly he sat up. _Quick, say something glib._

Before he could, Morrigan spoke. "I must admit I was...impressed, Alistair. I had strictly mechanical expectations for our encounter, and you quite exceeded them."

_Oh, did I please you?_ he thought scathingly. "Maybe we'll do it again sometime. What are you doing for the next Blight?" Morrigan scoffed and stretched languidly. _Probably trying to work the kinks out of her back from the bizarre position she demanded._ His anger flared. _Serves her right._ She twisted, putting her chest into profile and Alistair found that while previously her ample curve had the power to command his attention, now its sight filled him with a feeling of being soiled.

Morrigan's hands wandered down, pressing over her lower belly. "Yes. I can feel it beginning to settle in. 'Tis an odd sensation, but not...wholly undesirable."

"Women's intuition?" Alistair found his smallclothes and began pulling them on.

"Nothing so mundane. The ritual has certain components to help ensure that everything goes as well as it can."

_Could she have...?_ Accusations flew through his mind as Alistair dressed. _She_ is _a mage and who knows what foul sorcery and blood magic her demon mother taught her. Did I even want to do this?_ Morrigan pulled on the collection of rags she called trousers and reached for her drape. _She'd have to resort to magic to bed a partner. Who would sleep with such an obvious harlot, such a _whore_?_ She arranged the drape to provide a minimum of discretion and looked at him with piercing yellow eyes. _I...I did. Maker, I licked the lamp pole. It wasn't supposed to be like this._

"Now, as per our agreement, you will not attempt to find me after the archdemon is destroyed. If you do, you will not succeed and I will be quite unhappy."

"What of...what of our child?" he asked.

"I will teach her—or him, I suppose—that you are a noble and brave man, for what that is worth." Morrigan gathered her staff and smirked at him. "I would not pout overmuch, where I you. You've done more to strike a blow against the darkspawn in fifteen minutes than any Warden has achieved in the entire history of your order."

With that she was gone. Alistair waited in the bedchamber, allowing her time to leave the hallway before exiting in search of a bath.


End file.
